


the life i once had | lee juyeon

by meltingjukyu



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Other, is a vampire, juyeon angst, juyeon fluff, juyeon the vampire, lee juyeon - Freeform, my heart gushes for juyeon the vampire, tbz juyeon, the boyz - Freeform, the boyz au, the boyz juyeon, the boyz scenario
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27213655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meltingjukyu/pseuds/meltingjukyu
Relationships: Lee Juyeon (The Boyz)/Reader
Kudos: 7





	the life i once had | lee juyeon

Your family has been coming to this seaside town since you were a little girl. As you strolled along the beachfront, inhaling the last of the summer air. Smoothing down your auburn brown curls and the flowing, floral summer outfit that breached its boundaries as the wind picked up. Glancing around at the crashing waves, you were mesmerised by the aggression of their nature. The sand wasn’t paradisiac, it was unpleasant. It spanned the entire shore of this coastal town, the shallow shores coated with surfer dudes and families with picnics. The town held huddles of smiling families, children playing on hundreds of penny machines that chime loudly at a win, which muffled the sound of the wind.

Your father suggested this place for old times’ sake; you had travelled the coast for the last two weeks -- saving the best for last. The town held a special place in your heart… stepping out and feeling the breeze that was mixed with the sea air. Your whole life was planned: graduate next July, move in with your partner, be engaged by next December. Your father jumped at the chance to take you on a family getaway one final time. Countless memories wandered this beach. As you looked out at the harbour boats, you noticed fisherman returning from their day at sea, reigning in their nets. Yet, your drifting gaze wandered, almost automatically. A slight crick in your neck began to twinge as was craned your gaze upwards. The daunting steps to the ruins of the town’s abbey made the whole scenario worse the longer you looked at it. What was left of the abbey were the tall, medieval monastic walls surrounding the abbey itself and an astounding house. 

When you were younger, your father used to make you all climb the steps two at a time, “two, four, six, eight… the last one to the top is the beast’s dinner!” In the end, he carried you all the way to the top, “one hundred and eighty-eight, one hundred and ninety…” The abbey blocked the sun in a blinding manner, masses of people squinting and cupping their hands over their eyes to get a small glimpse at the towering wrecks of the walls. You were struck with awe once you faced the unnerving steps to the castle, looking out onto the shore. This place felt familiar every time you climbed the steps. One year, you were reading the old folklores of the abbey, once known as Streoneshalh, on signposts stating its history when your older sisters decided to recite facts about the abbey and its owner competitively; who could name more facts about how a famous writer used these ruins to inspire the scariest creature to roam the Earth. You were captivated, but you knew in yourself that vampires were not real. They were cruel, emotionless, and vicious myths.

“He doesn’t have a pulse.”

“He doesn’t age.”

Fascinated, yet bored, it had taken your Father thirty minutes to find you; the tall, aging zinc gravestone hid you well from the reality of it all. You felt a sense of comfort next to the gravestone; it wasn’t as daunting as the high-rise walls of the abbey. 

Looking at it now, age twenty-one, you could never dream of how naïve you were as a young child. You had excused myself from your early reservation at the hotel restaurant to clear your head. Kicking the sand with your scuffed boot to regain you train of thought; your neck had begun to throb. This getaway was to spend some time with your family, yet, here you were strolling the beachfront alone. 

“Time to head back to reality” you muttered to yourself, rubbing your neck through the thick, woolen jumper you had thrown on to keep warm. As you turned to mount the steep slant to head up to the pier, the air became suffocating. Subconsciously, you craned your aching neck to gaze upon the cliff once more. You began to feel emotions you hadn’t experienced in a long time: want, need, desire, _familiarity_. There was another feeling that was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. Feet began to drift through the narrow, cobbled streets, you could have been walking for five minutes, twenty, an hour. The Bookshop, The Black Horse pub, Justin’s Chocolatiers. Your attention was no longer on the places that used to draw you in; you were being compelled by the daunting steps to the rest of your life “two, four, six, eight…”

You slowly approached the first steps when a low hum sounded… a ringing that would force anyone to find the source. _Twenty-six, twenty-eight_. It was inviting, blinding and staggering all in one. You could not shake the feeling that you were subconsciously drawn to this cliff. _Seventy-four, seventy-six._ Half way up and walking to the next set of steps that led to the abbey, the scenery behind you began to morph into a darker, gloomier sight. You caught a glimpse of flickering fire in your peripheral vision, and wooden boats wobbling in the harbor. You began to race up the steps to get a better look. _One hundred and sixty-two, one hundred and sixty-four._ You stood behind a familiar gravestone and gazed out at the completely different shore. Jaw slack and knuckles white, you tried to steady your mind by gripping the rough stone. Pulling your hands away, you noticed the grazes from the rough stone were slowly fading.

The shore was not only coated in dried up seaweed and flyaway branches but wooden canoes and fallen weapons that had been abandoned on the muddy sand. The tourist attraction that had protruded the tip of the bay was replaced by dark, wooden huts that you would assume were people’s homes by the clothing hanging up outside. You looked down to catch the flowing water that flooded the bottom of the cliff, as if surrounding it, with a small, aged bridge that led to the staggered steps. Small children playing in rags with bare feet in the dirt. Young men clinking stone steins together in celebration and chanting about a battle just won. Men and women were huddled around a fire, murmuring stories to one another, cheering and laughing as if they had no care in the world. _How wonderful._

“Our Kingdom is wonderful, isn’t it?” 

A pair of black eyes almost hidden by wavy, brown locks gazed down on your small figure. Your gaze flicked across the figures face, focusing on the deep, faded scar that lined the right side of his face. The stranger’s hand was caressing your lower back affectionately. His eyes penetrated your soul as if asking for permission to grasp it into his cold, possessive clutch. _But he already has._

“It is incredible how the wind feels when you are no longer startled by the cold. It is refreshing, don’t you agree?” The stranger asked, his head tilted to the side as he gazes out with deep fondness onto the village.

His mouth, stained scarlet, morphed into a grin; his incisors stood out from the rest. _Fangs_. You should have been scared, but it felt familiar. His pointed nose arched delicately framing his face under the shadows. His tainted, ruby waistcoat contrasted the abundance of charcoal that coated his skin elegantly, all the way down to his pointed dress shoes. His skin was pale, but it was glowing with glimmers of silver and crimson, reflecting from the raging fires below. 

“Where am I?” you whispered. Your teeth began to ache.

“My love, you act as though you have never laid eyes upon Streoneshalh before?” he cocked his head to the side, analysing every flicker of your eyes and every bump that rose upon your smooth skin. His voice was like velvet. A name came to mind as you gazed upon his adoring face.

_Juyeon_. 

You looked down to find my woollen jumper had been replaced with a burgundy corset with overhanging silver chains and a dark, flowing cloak. “ _Our kingdom_.” You murmured to myself, slicing your lip on the exposed teeth that had grown through. Pulling your hand away from the swollen graze, you noticed opaque blood, almost black, was dripping from your lip.

Bringing your finger to prod at the pointed teeth, you came to the realisation that you were supposed to be here. You were destined to have climbed those steps. _Our Kingdom._ A small man, much older than yourself, appeared in the doorway with a strikingly golden cane in his right hand. He grinned at you both with the same adoration as a father has in another life. _Caedmon_.

“The abbey truly is beautiful. The excellent detail that shapes its walls is a sight to behold. The glimmering light from those fires below accentuate the detail extraordinarily. Never has there been a sight like this.” You gawped. “I cannot believe that we live here…” Trailing off questioningly, unsure of the true reality of your life at this moment. 

You turned my gaze back to the striking man beside you. _King Juyeon, Ruler of Streoneshalh_. He smiled at you, adoringly. You felt safe, comfortable, familiar. His cool, enormous hands enclosed your small ones as he intertwined your fingers. At that moment, you looked up to the scar gashing of his face. A flash of lightning passed your eyes as the scene around you changed. You saw the life you used to have before you ruled over your Kingdom. 

_Loud cheers surrounded your small tribe fighting to protect our coast. Flashes of silver like lightning. Swords were clashing against one another in aggression that you had never witnessed before. Your short, choppy locks were coated in sweat and dirt. Your tunic sliced in more places than one. You knew you were not meant to be in battle, but you had to find Juyeon. Your heart stopped once you noticed him lying on the floor, blood splattered his right cheek with glimpses of flesh oozing out of his skin. You ran to him faster than your legs could take you. “Please, please, please” you repeated, like. a mantra. Taking his paling face into your hands, wiping coated crimson locks from his broken skin. You sobbed until you could not shed a tear anymore. You looked up in time to see a small man with a gold cane with his gaze secured on your two figures. You took Juyeon’s hands in your own with affection, love, and hope. The battle had carried further along the shore, leaving Juyeon’s tiresome body and yourself alone with the stranger. His smile was alluring, welcoming. The light of the setting sun disappeared with a glimmer that was quicker than the lethal swords of battle._

“I owe my life to Caedmon for protecting you, giving us a life of eternity. I will never forgive you for being on that battlefield that day. The gruesome sight of slashing swords still haunts our nightmares. It was no place for someone so beautiful, so ravishing. Yet, he gave us our Kingdom to rule over and has taught us skills we could never have learned down there.” Juyeon’s gaze drifted to the small man that remained planted in the doorway watching over you, and then down towards your old home amongst the sea of cheering Saxons. 

“Come, my love. The sun will begin to rise soon; we must get to our chambers. Caedmon has collected one of the dying soldiers from the battle for us. We have not fed in weeks.” He gestured toward the towering double doors that led into the abbey. You had forgotten what had ensued before you reached the steps. You wanted to follow Juyeon wherever he went. You had eternity to look after your kingdom, after all.

Caedmon reached your side, using his cane to aid his stride: “your love for one another never fails to astound me, my dear.” His grin is taken up by his protruding fangs. You witnessed a fatherly love gleaming through his eyes, despite their hollow depths. You nodded in appreciation, grinning, drawn once more by the allure of Juyeon and the abbey.

Before you entered our domain, grasping my fingers along the hem of lengthy cloak and striding confidently behind Juyeon and Caedmon, you felt an urge to turn and gaze out over the cliffs. You caught sight of a familiar gravestone; its silhouette cast a contrast against the flickers of copper that gleamed from the fire pits below in the village. Walking across the gravel path towards the cemetery, you noticed a grave marker by the same stone. Your velvet cloak flapped in the wind, stark against your auburn curls. You were surrounded by the lingering smell of burnt out fires and beef stews that you used to long for. The moment you felt fingers wrap around your waist, you were overwhelmed by his comforting scent. Inhaling deeply, your gaze wandered down to the cursive letters on the gravestone.

It read: 

_Here lies Juyeon and ---._

_Brave warriors of our unforgotten War._

_May their Souls Rest in Peace._


End file.
